Enter Apocalypse
by ThePyro
Summary: Follows the Plot of Bioshock fairly closely, then spirals out of control dangerously. What does happen when you try to go to the toilet with an Incinerate active? Is it stupid to play Russian roulette with a modified pistol? all this and more, inside...
1. Chapter 1

Well, I guess this is my first fic, but so what. i may have a few flaws im my writing style [such as going serious for a looooooooong time then going CFU all over the place with syringe-wielding fiery ape-type creatures and stuff, so please give me a few pointers. The only reason this fic is in the M section is due to the jokes sexually-orientated, the fights graphic, and the language harsh. That's how I roll. so please, sit back and watch the mayhem unfold in:

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Enter...Apocolypse.  
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Planes.

Hate planes.

I HATE GOD DAMN PLANES.

A Great explosion ensues as the plane Jack was onboard crashes into the rocks

Jack swims over to the plane, only to see the remnants of the tail explode and submit to the waters.

"Damn it! my lady mags were in the bag rack!" Jack bellowed.

He swam forwards to the shoreline only to see a lighthouse with intricate decorations and large, ornate...revolving doors?

Jack scratched his head in confusion, pondering this when suddenly, a bullet ricocheted off the rocks beside him and into a nearby zombie that happened to have been hitchiking from Raccon City, busking and getting people to pay him money to see his 'zombie shuffle' dance so he could pay off his large gambling debts.

"But I was a friendly Zombie!" the corpse burbled, and then collapsed.

"WTF just happened?" Jack questioned loudly to the area he saw the muzzle flash come from.

The shadowy figure shrugged from the shadows and walked, silent as a shadow, across to Jack, wearing a shadowy Hooded Robe used by people who shadow things, and carying what appeared to be some sort of shadowed 9MM pistol.[shadow

'who the hell is this guy?' Jack thought.

"who the hell are you?" jack said.

The hooded figure merely shrugged again and gestured towards the lighthouse, whilst handing Jack his gun and drawing something like... a red crowbar?

Jack noted the crowbar and accepted the 9MM, thanking the stranger.

"hey, can I call you Strider?"

the mysterious person simply raised a lone finger to Jack as he walked towards the lighthouse.

"wow, nice guy. Hey wait up!" Jack called to the stranger.

'odd, shoes don't clank on floor...do they?' he thought as he recognised the sound as metal on concrete as the stranger walked.

He could have swore he saw a flash of orange metal under the hem of the robe as they walked.

The stranger turned around as they approached the Revolving Doors of Revolvable Doom.

Jack bowed and said politely, "ladies first."

the stranger poked him in the shoulder with the crowbar and somehow, Jack just knew that there was a death glare under that hood. he had recieved many from his ex-wife before, he knew what they felt like, yet this, this was different. the temperature dropped by a notable 40 degrees celsius. This man knew much anger, pain and sorrow.

Jack's face lit up as the light of understanding shone through his mind.

"wow... you saw...someone...d...d...drink tea whilst kitten huffing?"

The hooded figure slowly sat down and brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and slowly rocking back and forth.

"Relax, I know how you feel. I...I once saw a russian Pygmy chain-huffing 30 kittens and 3 penguins while swinging from a chandiler eating Kake... with a k. Not a c, A FREAKIN K GOD DAMMIT!!!"

the hooded figure sighed and stood up, shaking his hooded head.

"I... I just thought I had gotten over it."

Miscellanious Hooded Figure raised his hand and pushed the SPINNY DOOR THINGY and motioned for Jack to follow.

"MMkay." Jack stood up energetically and smashed his head through the ReVOLverIng DoOR Glass and calmly walked through the fresh opening he created.

The Shadow Shadow Guy just froze in pure confusion as to what happened.

"what?" Jack questioned.

the other guy just pointed slowly toward's Jack's crowbar.

Jack shurgged. "meh. couldn't be bothered lifting my arm, and extending it, and putting it behind my head and all that crap, just far to time consuming, and I'm also a lazy arse. Plus, I fell asleep."

the duo descended down some ornate steps and entered what looked like a baby submarine. Or a hollow Brass Monkey Ball.  
whatever floats your boat.

Jack closed the door behind himself and Screamed.

"SHINY LEVER!!!!!!!!"

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Meh, I was tired all 3 times I worked on this. Plus, the keyboard layout on this laptop is totally FUBAR. I've been on Team Fortress too long and now i can't adapt to new keyboards /  
Well, I will accept nearly all suggestions for this story, fire away, and good suggestions get a free cameo appearance to exact the pain their suggestion will inflict.  
Oh and one last thing. Flames? Free reviews. Dumbass. 


	2. Chapter 2

Gollum: Well peopleses, welcomeses to the secondses chapters of the Enterses Apocol-

Gollum's head explodes in a horrific shower of blood as Jack strides on set, holding a smoking Longshot 3000

Jack: Sorry 'bout that folks, everything's okay around here, nothing to see here, move along.

ThePyro: Judging by the way his head came off, I would say there's quite a bit to see.

Jack: you wanna end up like him? draws an AR2 rifle from nowhere and points it at the author

ThePyro: I would ask the same question. However, I AM THE ALMIGHTY AUTHOR! NONE MAY DEFEAT ME! I AM ALL POWERFUL! I CAN CREATE AND DESTROY WORLDS IN A MATTER OF A FEW KEYSTROKES! I SHALL-

Jack: throws a stapler and knocks ThePyro out All right, I have no idea how that worked,  
nor how I got that stapler...

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The Bathysphere Plunged into the icy depths forcefully, as if Chuck Norris himself kicked it into the sea with all his Chuckish might.

"wow, it's pretty deep..."

The other hooded guy turned to face Jack in his seat.

"yeah, I guess this Thing must be pretty strong to withstand this pressure."

the hooded figure shuffled a little in his seat.

"Yeah. Why exactly is this thing here. I mean like, who in the world goes out of their way to build a weird submarine in the middle of nowhere inside a lighthouse? More to the point, why the hell did we get in?"

The guy wearing the hood reached up to his hood.

"Why would we just get in? I mean like, there's no real reason other than pure stupidity on our behalf, it's not like we were brainwashed into doing something, that would be stupid, and how come-"

Gordon Freeman lowered the hood and stretched his arms lazily.

"GORDON FREEMAN?"

Gordon merely smiled and polished his crowbar with a shred of the seat he ripped off.

"Why are you here? More to the point, did you just use revealing your identity to avoid me picking holes in the plot like why yo-"

Suddenly, Neo seemingly phase shifted into existance beside Jack cutting his sentence short, holding a strange machination.

"What in all that is purple is that?" Jack said.

Neo simply replied, "Ooga woogla nerfurgager." Suddenly, the unusual metallic object in his hand unfolded, whirring and clicking like a manhack.

"IT'S A BOMB!!!" Jack roared, before trying to open the Bathysphere door.

"No. I Am The One. It Is A Plot Device." Neo stated with dramatic apathy, speaking each word with an upper case letter.

"You can't do that! It's...it's... just not... grammatical!" To which Neo replied,  
"Yes I Can. I Am The One." The strange object, now identified as a Plot Device, radiated a pure blue glow and seemed to supernova in Neo's palm.

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"What just happened? I remember trying to speak about plot holes, then everything went blue..." Jack mumbled, rising from his coma-like stupor.

"Hmm... must've docked automatically while we were out. Nice piece of it, this." Jack stated, patting the metal interior of the Bathysphere.

Jack scanned the small space like a blind hawk and sighted a person curled into the corner between the lever and the seats.

Gordon Freeman was simply lying on the floor, shaking nervously with his arms hugging his knees into his chest.

Jack looked at Gordon and spoke up,"Dude, what's wrong?"

Gordon slowly swiveled his whole body, somehow pivoting on an invisible axis whilst sitting [Just try it yourself...

Jack almost shed a tear, skaing in shock.

"He...he...h-he did w-what?"

Gordon just stood up shakily, and looked out the window of the Bathysphere, pointing at a lone figure, shadowed by the light filtering through the watery depths outside the docks.

"I need...yes..we needs monies...monies for him...the Human Paladin must reach level 50 before Tuesday..."

"What was that?" Jack piped up.

They both peered out through the steamed up glass of the Bathysphere, focusing on a distant figure.

"Yessssss...my precioussssss epiccccssssss..." The strange, hunched over silhouette muttered.

"What is that?" Jack inquired to noone in particular.

Gordon turned to face Jack and made a few varied waves and shrugs.

"Warcraft Splicer?"

Yes, I Apologise for the Chapter length so far, but the Intro/Bathysphere sequence is far too restricting, yet I feel that I will rush it horribly and then we might need to call in Neo to wipe their minds again. Im making a vow to make nearly every chapter at least 100-150 words longer than its predecessor. Sorry, but i'm just not a real marathon style typist, i'm more suited to saying "Hlp medc" or "bloody camper n00b" over Team Fortress and the like. Next chapter will only come when I get ONE review. Not very demanding, I just feel a little like a train without tracks, I really don't have a clue if people are actually liking this, or are people just going, "Meh. Useless. Back Button." Open to comments of any kind, be it criticizing, thanks, flaming, or appraisal. Even flames have some kind of basis on what's wrong. Call what you want parodied, any characters, or just an idea you want to see. Hell, even leave a few random words at the bottom of the review if you do type one. Maybe the random words could be the hidden inspiration i'm searching for. Sincere thanks to the 10 people who actually spared a short glance at my work, they're the people who are keeping my fingers moving.

P.S. CRITICIZE GRAMMAR! POINT OUT FLAWS WHEN POSSIBLE PLEASE!

Thanks for reading, Hope you enjoyed it so far and what's to come.  
ThePyro 


	3. Chapter 3

Well, welcome back ladies and gentlemen! To yet another episodic chapter in the not-so-epic saga of Enter Apocalypse.

Firstly, I would like to thank the people who read this far, and also, the reviewers. I would definitely not be typing this if it weren't for the thanks and support provided by you guys. Thanks.

Sincerest apologies for the slow update, but as many people may know, choosing subjects feels like cutting off limbs.

PS: special thanks to NinjaOfDeath, who didn't review, but to me, an alert is pretty much equal. To be honest, I didn't really expect one so early. Sweet.

Now, for review replies:

Vesparatiar: Thanks for the review, and yeah. Random, but I just get the feeling of serious restriction whenever I try to think of something in the Bathysphere sequence. Once I get down to the entrance hall, expect it to level out (a little:). I have a good feeling about what a lot of people will think about MY Sander Cohen…

Ace Clark: The voices in my head have much better writing ideas so I use them instead. Now, Bioshock is a _deathly serious_ game. In other wards, it leaves itself so open to parodies. But yeah. I agree, Bioshock is better than an armful of ADAM any day XD Yes, I Know I said ONE review, but I was Working on the story last night and I got Pwned by writer's block. Sux Eggs.

Enter Apocalypse

Last time, on Enter Apocalypse:

"QUICK! TAKE HIM DOWN!" Kusanagi screamed, firing shots from her assault rifle wildly off camera.

"I can't there's just too many terrorists!" The chief roared back, emptying clip after clip from his Needler, violet crystalline shards searing and cleaving flesh with burning plasma as counter-terrorists fell by his side.

"DON'T WORRY MAJOR! I HAVE YOUR BACK! A Tachikoma bleeped merrily, gunning wildly with its dual rotary cannons as it leapt into the fray.

"NOOOOO! THE WAFFLES!" A strange paint covered cross dresser roared, his fake potato mambo's jiggling as he hoisted some freeze-dried waffles into the air… with a bullet hole in it.

Instantly, the battle halted in honour of the fallen waffles.

"This is a dark day for the land of Middle Earth…" The Major solemnly spoke, bowing her head in reverence as the packet of waffles fell to the ground, spilling over the cold concrete as the-

"WAIT ONE SECOND! HOW THE HELL DID WE GET HERE, AND HOW DID THE SCREEN DIVIDE UP 24-STYLE?" Jack roared, showing blatant disregard for rule 278b-paragraph 26 subsection A: The Author withholds all rights to lose his sanity and go completely apeshit, causing the Artificial world he creates to collapse in on itself by ripping off storyline ideas from popular TV shows.

Neo TeleOneificates into existence, holding yet another Plot Device.

Jack, having spotted this, had just enough time to say this before getting Plot Holed into the correct time zone and period of the Fic:

"Bugger Me Marmalade…"

"Fricking Holy Light, I was busy ganking those n00bs on my Night Elf Rogue, the most frequently spelt wrong class of all and BANG! Now I'm stuck in a different game, in a different body, with no BLOODY SHADOWMELD!" The Warcraft Splicer angrily garbled across his headset, which wasn't actually connected, even the jack was missing.

"Should we kill him?" Gordon inquired.

"Yeah, probably before he tries to scam our epic- WAIT JUST ONE SPAWNCAMPING SECOND!!! GorDiN dnt Tlk! 0Mg!" Jack shouted.

"…Umm…no?" Gordon stumbled out, mentally slapping himself.

"Hahahaha! I'm the only one to know what you sound like! KICKASS!"

"Well, there was one time when me and Alyx were having some hot-" Gordon was cut short as a keyboard came crashing through the side of the Bathysphere, almost shattering a rib as it winded Jack.

"NEED…GOOLLLLLLLLDDDDD…" the Randomer hissed angrily, throwing a handful of windows keys from a bag at his waist at our heroes.

"WATCH YOURSELF! IF THEY HIT YOU, YOU'LL GET TROWN OUT ONTO THE DESKTOP AND WHILST YOU'RE WAITING FOR THE GAME TO MINIMIZE AND MAXIMISE, YOU'LL GET RAPED BY N00BS!" Jack shouted to his ally.

"BURNING LAG OF DIAL-UP!" Gordon screamed, as fiery bolts of tangled up Ethernet cables flew from his outstretched hands.

"NOOOO! FUCKING LAGGGGG!" The Warcraft Splicer swore, enraged as he jittered about worse than a 3 year old on Pro Plus: Now with extra Caffeine!

Jack leisurely strode over to the Splicer, who was hanging in the air due to the sheer force of the Dial-Up-Lag.

"This is revenge. FOR THE GODDAMN WAFFLES!!!" He drew a sword rivalling Samehaedra's size from his ass pocket and drove it into the Splicer's chest.

He withdrew the massive blade from the Splicer's chest with a meaty grate as he felt the experience points pour from the wound over his arm.

The corpse hung in the air, still suspended by lag as the pair walked past the bleeding corpse over to an elevator leading upstairs.

They entered the lift and pinged the button, and as they did so, some cute little plinking tunes played through the claustrophobic little space as elevator music played across the speakers system.

"well Gordon, which way do we go?" Jack questioned as the exited the lift.

"Up." Gordon replied simply.

"The fuck? No, seriously, which way." Jack answered impatiently.

"UP!!!" Gordon roared, before grasping hold of Jack's legs and flinging him at the roof, propelling him with enough force to rival that of Chuck Norris's polite cough.

"What the hell… my freaking head…" Jack groaned painfully, clutching his freshly concussioned head.

The sounds of laughter, happiness and merriment caused Jack to raise his head, and have his eyes visibly shrink in terror at what he saw.

"What the fuck have I indirectly gotten myself into this time…" Jack uttered, staring at the tiny orange little creatures with green hair.

**Singing**

Oompah Loompa Dippity Doo

We Have Information To Give To You,

Oompah Loompa Didilly Dee

We Are Going To Stick Our Wangs Right In Ye,

Guess What Happens When You Fuck With Orange Midgets?

They Start To Rape You Whilst Your Wife Looks On And Fidgets.

Why Did You Have To Screw With…US!

Now We Are Going To Remove Your…NUTS!

Oompah Loompa Bloopity Bear

Never Mess With The Guys With Green Hairs

Oompah Loompa Dippity Dare

They'll Push Your Mother Down The Freaking Stairs

Oompah Loompa Dongly Dee

Don't Annoy These People If Want To Be Free

Oompah Loompa Riddly Ree

'Cause No One Will Ever Find Your Body In The Chocolate Factory!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, and welcome back to the fourth instalment of Enter Apocalypse.

I'm actually impressed; I Honestly expected to get over 3 reviews at chapter 5 when I first started.

-Fixed some earlier spelling errors.

-Added a bit about a glinty eye in the last chapter

-I think I deleted a part of the document by accident in chapter 3. If you see what's missing or a gaping hole for no reason, Pm or Review with it mentioned please.

NinjaOfDeath- No problem, and thanks for the review : )

Enter Apocalypse

Oompah Loompa Ropety Roo-

A large orange bolt Embedded itself in the head of one of the tiny orange people and the fling corpse impaled the others, ripping heads off and disembowelling as it soared across the room.

"Someone order a pizza?" Gordon questioned stoically as he held up a large 16" pizza with a crossbow concealed poorly within it.

"Thanks, I thought those little gremlin guys were going to eat me!"

"They weren't going to eat you, didn't you listen to the song?" Gordon replied.

"You heard? You were sitting here the whole time just so you could listen to the-"

"We don't have much time! Let's go! NOW!" Gordon interrupted him, as more Oompa Loompas streamed through a doorway.

They both leapt through the hole in the floor Jack created en-route to the Factory.

"Ok, according to this map I have somehow obtained without even realizing that I have been carrying it around, we should go up this corridor and take a left." Jack spoke, glancing down at his map and back up at the corridor.

"I think we should go left now."

"What? Didn't you hear me? Left AFTER we go up the hallway, mainly because there IS NO DOOR HERE!"

"_Go…left…now…"_

"Oh crap, now you've gone and got that crazy glint in your eye, the last time you got it. I took a expenses-paid trip through the ceiling…."

"LEFT!!!"

Jack simultaneously crapped himself, wet himself, dropped his map, ordered a pizza, cut his own hair and then sprinted down the corridor.

Gordon roared, "GO LEFT!!!" and pounded noisily after him, snarling like a WoW player talking about Runescape.

Jack was fleeing for his life when he nearly tripped over a wire stretching the width of the corridor, seemingly... buzzing? SPARKING?

"Gordon, WATCH THE WIRE-" and, in bug-zapper style flash of blue light, Gordon was lying on the corridor floor, twitching and convulsing in a mess of tripwire.

"For flying fragging flamer's sake! Now I have to drag his corpse around till I can find a Necromancer…"

Jack put his hands under Gordon's armpits and began to drag the corpse slowly down the corridor.

Three Hours Later

"I'm…so…tired…" Jack mumbled, slowly inching the corpse onwards.

"Night night mommy, Jackie go sleep-sleep bedtime now…"

Jack stumbled back the 4 yards he dragged the corpse and lay down, curling up to sleep, when suddenly-

"HELLO!" Gordon roared in Jack's ear, grinning maniacally.

"The fuck? You're dead!" Jack whimpered, pointing to the still corpse of Gordon Freeman. Yet, somehow, Gordon Freeman was lying dead 5 yards away and at the same time, standing over him, looming above him like a crazy, undead smiling statue.

"Oh, I don't remember what happened, all I can remember is shooting that Oompah Loompa with the CrossPizzaBow with extra mozzarella and a side order of death, then waking up inside a Halo style sleep pod thing a few rooms ahead."

Jack looked puzzled, then, out of the blue; Gordon withdrew a katana from one of his bottomless HEV suit pouches and embedded it into his own face. He stumbled about for a bit, before tumbling over his own corpse and ramming the blade deeper.

Jack stood up. No FREAKING WAY was he going to spend god knows how long in here with that nut job.

"Got to get away, have to run, get away, stay away, can't catch me, run away…" Jack mumbled consistently under his breath, running for his dear life down corridors and hallways until…

"Ow, stupid pile of Gordon bodies… wait a second…"

Jack looked up at what he had just ran headlong into. A gargantuan pile of identical orange metal-clad humans… all dead.

He painfully slowly crept to the side of the pile, wary of the periodic flash of greenish light, then a hiss, then a bluish flash and a crackle of electricity, a meaty thud, and then it repeats itself. Over and over and over and over and over and-

"Ok, enough Pyro, the readers get the point. Lots of very same-y things happen. Guy creeps around wall. K?" Jack spoke out, looking at the roof.

No, I can do what ever the hell I like. Look! The evil of speech WITHOUT QUOTATION! OOOOOOOOH!

"No fair. I have to have them every time. Jack grabbed the speech marks of the end of his sentence, and fidgeting with them.

Hey, put that back!

"No" Jack ripped the full stop from his sentence and began juggling the punctuation.

Ok, last chance. Then Neo gets to play with your spine.

"What?" Jack spluttered, dropping the punctuation.

Good, I have your attention. Now, GET ON WITH THE BLOODY STORY, WE WERE GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS!

"…ok…"

Jack's face fell back into its frightened state, and peered around the massive pile of bodies.

"Ooh, pretty…" BZZT

"Ooh, pretty…" BZZT

"Ooh, pretty…" BZZT

"Ooh, pretty…" BZZT

"Ooh, pretty…" BZZT

Jack just looked on in horror as Gordon was revived, stepped out of the

Vita-Chamber, tried to grab a sparkly frayed wire the width of his arm, fried, and dropped to the ground. And again. And again.

"GORDON! WTF?" Jack roared.

"Huh?" Gordon turned around, just in time to trip over one of his more unfortunate past lives, flail wildly falling in slow motion (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!)

and cracking his skull against the hard steel plated floor.

Jack, I suggest you tie that prat up as soon as he comes out.

"I've got no rope." Jack stated, holding his hand out.

sigh OK, but I can't help you very much, you know that, it's against the rules of alternate realities.

"Alting realter what?"

Never mind…

A length of Kevlar fibre rope appears in Jack's outstretched hand.

"Thanks." Jack said, bowing to nothing in particular, and then standing beside the Vita-Chamber, readying himself.

"Whoops, too tight, his head popped off. Oh well…"

Apologies for the slow update, but I got side tracked by the meet the Engineer, Soldier, Heavy and Demoman videos for team fortress 2. (BTW, if you have the time, go look up Maggot Engineers Cannot Comprehend Farm Philosophy, they do basically what I see in my head whenever I go to write these chapters…)

This chapter is slightly shorter than the promised, but that's because of the:

_**5**__**th**__** chapter bonus content!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**_

Well, yeah, its going to be about 2,000-2,500 words, and whoever reviews with an idea gets it incorporated into the chapter.

NOONE IS DOING IT! In a review, place a few random choice words at the bottom of your review please! RANDOM INSTIGATES RANDOM X 2 TO THE SQUARE ROOT OF INSANITY!

Thanks all, and have a merry Xmas.

ThePyro


	5. Chapter 5

Greetings, and welcome to the first in the line of special chapters in the saga of Enter Apocalypse. This Bonus chapter contains an extra thousand words on top of the average chapter. I'm hoping to make every bonus chapter gain an extra 500 words on top of the last bonus chapter. Apologies to all of those who eagerly anticipated the 5th chapter and had it arrive late sigh but, life's a bitch, and then it pokes you in the eye. Short attention spans aside, I did also have a proper reason for being distracted, I've been getting the rough framework for the rest of this fic sorted, looking up Bioshock lore and stuff like that, and trying to get any more tabs on the potential Bioshock 2. If it does hit shelves, expect the length of this fic to double. See where I'm going with this? Plus, I've been laughing at the fanboys of the console war. Heh, some of the crap all sides spout is totally laughable.

In other news, HUZZAH! This fic has attained 100 hits! Thanks people, you're keeping me going. Also, I must inform you, I will be starting a new fic very soon, within the next fortnight, and yes, it will be a SERIOUS one. Seriously, what's up with that?

Enter Apocalypse-X2

"ok Gordon, what the hell exactly is wrong with you?"

"Mmmfmfmfmfffrrrrrfffaarrrrrmmmff?"

"Oh yeah, I should probably take the rag from your mouth…"

Probably. But then he would bite you again and start breathing fire again :D

"You really shouldn't talk to us, I kinda like my plane of existence."

Shut the baked sock up, or I'll beat you with a giant rusty plastic spatula.

"…Kay…plastic doesn't rust…"

Yes it does. In this dimension it does anyway.

"???"

yep, I made it so it does : )

"You have too much time on you're hands, and you're also a sadistic bast. You create new, alternate realities, just so you can then torture the hell out of their occupants?"

Yep.

"I want out. So I can kick your head in."

Too bad, I have all the heads, and I shall do all the kicking in this universe. By the way, I think Gordon just suffocated.

"Yeah, and you can shove your- say what?"

Jack looked down at the limp body in his hands and his face visibly fell in realisation of what just happened.

"Oh. My. God. Gordon is free…"

Heh, you're screwed now, I gave him a brick.

"A brick? You mean, a Brick brick? A Lego brick? Bricklayer? Brick wallpaper?"

No the hard, clay kind. You know, the best one.

"What the hell possessed you to give that psychopath a hard, heavy object?"

Probably whatever made me release zombies in Rapture.

"…Say what…?"

"Rrrrr…."

"Why did I have to be in this fanfic? Why couldn't I be in something like Naruto? Or even Barbie? I could melt them all with incinerate…"

Nope, that would mean you get off the hook too easy.

"Off the hook?"

You stole my cup of coffee. People die when that happens. LOTS of people.

"Oh crap, he's starting to use italics…"

"Yeah, he's pretty pissed." Gordon stated, merrily smashing undead skull into reanimated chest cavities.

"Where the frag-o-matic did you come from?" Jack hastily said, turning to face him.

"Meh, that's not important, what's important is that zombie is stealing your wallet."

Jack turned and, sure enough, a zombie was standing with its hand in Jack's pocket.

"Great, suicidal people, maniacal overlords of universes, and now kleptomaniacial walking corpses. Just BLOODY GREAT!" Jack bellowed, grabbing a wrench from the floor and absolutely reducing the zombie's head to puree.

Jack rushed at the mob of zombies marching at them from a doorway, swinging his wrench from side to side, fragmenting skulls, ribs and spines as he steadily deteriorated the mass of shuffling creatures.

"Hey, save some for me, would ya?" Gordon laughed, swinging his trusty crowbar wildly, freshly retrieved from one of his many previous lives.

"Sure, you take that one, and I'll take this hundred." Jack giggled, grabbing one zombie's arm with the wrench, wrenching it off and then proceeding to pound its friends with the severed limb.

"Die Unbread Thingy!" Jack cried as he furiously slammed his free hand into a zombie's forehead, ripping it's head clean off its shoulders, before rising his foot and throwing a downward heel crush into the zombie's torso.

Gordon stashed his crowbar away, his eye glinting innocently.

"Hmm. Run." Jack pushed his way out of the crowd of zombies, just in time to see what Gordon was doing.

Gordon grounded himself, breathed deeply and exhaled, and then put his hands together in a rapid succession of hand seals.

" Rat, ram, snake, horse, dragon, poop. Katon: Flaming Oompah Loompa Stream Of Death!" Gordon howled, throwing his hands up with his palms flat towards the ambling crowd.

Two large, dark red swirling columns of pure energy formed on his outstretched palms, and Gordon screamed, "RELEASE!"

Poof

The energy dissipated instantly, leaving twin trails of wispy smoke rising lazily from his hands.

"What the… how did you do that, and why did it do nothing?"

Gordon simply turned to jack and smiled.

"Watch closely." Gordon simply stated.

"What do you mean by that-"

Suddenly, a reinforced steel door behind them rippled and swelled to its breaking point, then burst, giving in to the screaming hail of burning Oompah Loompas hurtling towards the zombies. The living remains stood no chance and were reduced to smouldering ashes and slivers of flesh as the stream of fire and midget shredded the undead army, leaving little trace as the burning Oompah Loompa river circled around and finished off the survivors, spiraling closer and closer until the flow collided with its own tail, exploding in a puff of orange face paint and pale white work slacks.

"I'm not going to question how you did that…" Jack warily said.

"I was watching this really cool show, and I was like, NO WAY! That is like, so like, so totally cool! So I like, tried to like do the handseals, and It like kinda worked, like." Gordon gibbered mindlessly.

Suddenly, Gordon fell to the ground unconscious/concussed/dead, as Jack slowly lowered his Wrench.

"Ah, silence. such beauty..."

Oi buttmunch, no Teamkilling.

"Shut up you Author-type person."

I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Now go pick up Gordon MKIIIIIIIIIIIIVVIVIVIVVIIVIVVVVV from the Vita-Chamber and let's go already.

"Why, because the readers might get bored? The Readers might not-"

WATCH IT! FOURTH WALLS ARE VERY FRAGILE THINGS!

"Then doesn't you speaking to me break the fourth wall?"

Well, I could explain it to you, but I quite simply put, cannot be arsed. NOW GET ON WITH IT!

"Jeez, ok, just lay off with the smiting and the Author powers and stuff."

Jack wearily trudged down the corridor back to the Vita-chamber and opened the glass tube, hefted Gordon onto his shoulder, and proceeded down a PREDETERMINED! path.

"Well, at least the semi-linear thing stops me getting lost too bad..."

Don't make me go corporeal and kick your ass about mate, you wouldn't like a claw hammer in the eye would you?

"Point made. Moving. QUICKLY."

Good minion.

"The machine is nearly complete! I just require 150 souls of Varied creatures to power the device!" Fontaine cackled to himself.

"Shall I do it? You know, bounty hunters can do so much more than clean and slave..." An orange armoured humanoid stated seemingly suggestively.

"Yes, yes, go bring Pikachu first, I just don't like the little prat." Fontaine ordered, mumbling something about furry fans and painful deaths under his breath.

"Acknowledged and understood, but aren't you dead?"

Fontaine pondered this for a second, before folding up like a piece of paper, forming a small origami plane and flying out an open doorway.

As the plane left the room, a faint humming could be heard that faintly resembled something like "Bloody bounty hunters with their obsession of stealing living creatures and picking out plot elements..."

"Ok, Gordon, do you still have that pistol from earlier?" Jack asked, as they leisurely strolled down a long miscellaneous corridor.

"Yeah, but it only has 226 shots left." Gordon spoke, glancing at his HUD.

"How the hell did you know? You didn't even check your pockets..." Jack questioned, looking at Gordon, very puzzled.

"AHHH! WHAT IN ALL THAT IS CAKE IS THAT???" Jack screamed, pointing at his HUD which

inexplicably appeared.

"It might be your HUD, either that or your frontalobe is melting. Melting like the syrupy goodness that is cheese!" Gordon gibbered maniacally, rolling around on the floor and trying to eat his own eyes.

"Mmmkay, Author guy, can ya sort of tie this guy up or something please..."

No. I don't feel like it.

Jack sighed and trailed Gordon's rhythmically twitching body down a long hallway.

As they marched wearily down the corridor, the corridor opened out into a grand ballroom of sorts... only there was something wrong... _very wrong..._

"Ah, this lampshade is tilted. I knew something was up." Gordon stated, kicking bodies and discarded weapons asunder from his path to fix the aforementioned lampshade.

Jack just stared at the total chaos strewn around him.

_Bodies._

_Blood._

_Wheelchairs._

_Guns._

_Pokemon._

**POKEMON?**

Jack jogged over to a mangled, bloodied mess with a few patches of yellow fur remaining upon the charred remains.

"NOOO! PIKACHU! WHY?!? WHY?!? WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN ME!!!" Gordon cried out, falling to his knees and totally breaking down as he clutched the little yellowish mess to the chest of his HEV suit.

"IT WAS YOU!" Gordon roared, angrily pointing his gloved finger accusingly at another orange plated human, trying to hide under a cardboard box labeled "Deliver to Nuke Building B. Whatever you do, Do Not Shake It. Just Don't."

Jack grabbed the box that was poorly concealing the person and tore it off them.

"And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling adults!" A feminine voice emanated from beneath the visor of the randomer in the Armour.

"Now to see who you really are!" Gordon quoted in a strange, manbeast-ish voice. You know, like the queer blonde. From the show? You idiot. I should just burn you.

Gordon detached the helm from the suit with a light suction-like pop and gasped at the person below the helm.

"PARIS HILTON?!?" Gordon roared, before quickdrawing his 9mm and firing wildly at the blond woman 2 feet in front of him.

Three clips later...

Paris, France

Tuesday 11 December

11:5- Wait What Was The Time Oh My Watch Stopped I Need New Batteries Please Give Me Some

"Flibber gooble wongle happle? Jibber wooka banco fleep!"

Linguistics Calibration Device Enabled

French Detected

Translating to: English

**Complete**

"So, how have you been doing today?" I have been having a wonderful time stealing children and hiding them in teacups tuning fork warned fire **ERROR** WINDOWS HAS DETECTED A FATAL EXCEPTION AND WILL BE TERMINATED REGARDLESS OF WHICH OPTION YOU CHOOSE."

Suddenly, a hail of 9mm rounds peppered the Frenchman, turning him into strawberry custard all over the pavement.

"So, Hilton, We finally meet..."

The blond managed to free her hands from the ropes tying her to the chair and removed the gag from her mouth. She spat a mouthful of blood on the floor and screamed, "IM NOT THAT SLUT HILTON! IM SAMUS!"

Gordon sneered, "You can't fool me. Everyone knows Samus is a guy."

"Do I look like a guy to you?" Samus angrily retorted.

"You know, maybe I shouldn't answer that..." Gordon smirked.

Apologies for the lateness of this update, but I had to get to work on the submission to my Second Life books.

I have decided to release Enter Apocalypse in book form on Second Life. any reviewers please leave any formats they would like it [in bundles of 2 chapters per book, Book Per chapter, 5-chapter books and how much they would be willing to pay for these. If you're interested, contact Insanity Slade. Currently, I am considering 5-Chapter Volumes for L$15 each. Sound fair? 3 quid a chapter, and as time progresses, each chapter is bigger and therefore worth more and more...

Also, I may be putting this fic on a TEMPORARY halt for a while. Had a little health scare, and now I sorta wanna do a Portal fic. Thanks for being understanding, and if not, sorry for being an unreliable twat :P

Quote from a friend: "Have you ever noticed how few experienced suicide bombers there are?"

ThePyro


	6. Chapter 6

Well, sorry to announce this.

This Fanfic is dead. However, fear not, we have a team of medics healing, one charging his _Über_ , and a specialist squad of med-nin on standby for the Fic.

Lot of stuff happened, was busy with exams, the gf, work, just a general clusterfuck for Fanfiction in general. So now, I intend to return with a new chapter SIX! Within the next fortnight. I personally felt a "Sorry I'm such a lazy arse, here's my excuse to hopefully cover my ass long enough to throw some more meat to the bloodthirsty creatures" apology message was due. Also, sincerest thanks to Silent Memento, whose relentless "You suck." reviews garnered enough spite for me to begin writing another chapter. Also, we appear to have a problem, as he doesn't know that Paris Hilton is actually a scary story made up by Mexicans to scare the Irish.

Delays also may have been due to my planning of a Naruto Fanfic, although I feel very close to scrapping the entire idea, and yet going all out and pulling a few over nighters to get it made by the end of August.

I am also looking for a Beta Reader, as I feel having another to throw randomness at and have it returned with equal vigor will help spawn a new chapter or ten, but lets not get ahead of ourselves.

Apologies to all, and again thanks to MEME-oh, yer wurds spekin bout me grammers war vory halpfol.


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